


stone-faced

by freshmint



Series: kinetic energy [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ballet, Ballet, Female Kageyama Tobio, Female Oikawa Tooru, Gen, Genderbend, Prequel, almost everyone's a girl, basically what kageyama & oikawa were like before mbt, idk if i'll ever finish this lol, more of the dumb ballet au, not romantic - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2018-12-21 04:37:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11936454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freshmint/pseuds/freshmint
Summary: a look into kageyama's life before she was a member of the Miyagi Ballet Theater.





	1. let me in

**Author's Note:**

> basically just some stuff i started working on a while ago to practice writing since i suck at it lol. a training days prequel i guess?? either way it's more ballet au because idk how to write anything else. a mess!

_under my skin_  
_not much feels like this_  
_so cold it burns, soft spoken words_  
_all I need is you to let me in_

* * *

 

When Kageyama dances, she becomes everything that she is not.

Which isn’t really saying much, because in her opinion she wasn’t very much to begin with. Just another girl who spent one too many hours rotting away at a splintering ballet barre in the basement of a constantly-damp cement building.

A building with locker rooms that always smelled like a strange combination of spoiled milk and disinfectant, a drinking fountain that leaked freezing water all over the floor of the hallway, a ballet madame with severe cheekbones and an immaculate bun who always stunk of rubbing alcohol, for reasons unknown to Kageyama.

When she danced onstage for the first time, with twenty-three other little girls in red and green elf costumes - A Midsummer Night’s Dream. The director of Kitagawa Daiichi, the rubbing alcohol woman, noticed little Kageyama in the front line with her pointed red cap and worn-out canvas slippers and asked her mother if she was interested in moving up to the pre-professional program.

_“She has incredible potential, if you just let us cultivate it. . .”_

When classes resumed in the fall, Kageyama donned a black leotard instead of a cap-sleeved baby blue one like the rest of her friends and joined a class of ten girls who were older than her. They didn’t pay her much attention at first, until the rubbing alcohol woman swept into the studio and poured her heart out over Kageyama’s supposed “potential.”

Kageyama would be hearing those words a lot.

_Potential. Gifted. Prodigy._

At first, she had thought it to all be fluff. Until, after a while, those words made a nest in her heart and stayed there, curled up and heavy for a very, very long time.

Their ballet madame had a full name, and it was probably highly imposing and full of importance, but the dancers at Kitagawa Daiichi knew her as Watanabe-sensei, and only ever as Watanabe-sensei.

She was Kageyama’s first real teacher, the curator of her first real ballet class that didn’t involve skipping across the floor in shaky diagonals and trying her hardest to touch her toes, but instead hundreds of tendús and degagés until her inner thighs felt like melted rubber.

That was the first night. The first night that Kageyama came home with dried tear-tracks on her round face, because her sneakers had rubbed against the popped blisters on her feet on the walk home. Now, she always has a pair of socks in her bag, even if they’re a little bloodstained. Shredded skin, blood, bruises, sore muscles, it was all suddenly one big maelstrom in her life, one that she quickly learned how to navigate. It was either that or weakness in the face of the unknown, and that was even worse for Kageyama to think about.

Instead, she learned to wrap her toes with lengths of skinny white medical tape, layered with liquid bandages which burned and smelled like nail polish remover but at least, stopped her from staining her shoes with blood. Painkillers were always a presence in her bag, red and white pills rattling around next to too many empty plastic water bottles.

When her calluses ripped open from dancing barefoot in contemporary classes, she kept the areas protected with excessive amounts of antibiotic cream and athletic tape, seared with a lighter so it would stick. She would sew the elastics to her pointe shoes by the blue glow of a TV screen while she tried her best to finish her homework.

_Whoever said ballet was all fluff was a damn liar._

* * *

The other girls in the pre-professional program were older than her, but they weren’t cruel. They didn’t speak to her much, and she didn’t speak to them. In Kageyama’s mind, there was no need to busy herself with friendships when all she really had time to do was _improve._

Until one February day full of snowmelt and too-bright sunshine, Kageyama had been enjoying their peaceful basis of non-interaction. But much to her distress, auditions for solos had crept around the corner. The spring showcase for Kitagawa Daiichi was once again on the horizon, just as it had been last year.

Cinderella. A ballet that Kageyama once heard a ballet teacher describe as “gauzy.”

It would be her first performance as a potential soloist, (she had received pointe shoes just last October,) but instead of her typical assured, yet quiet confidence that came to her when watching the others audition, her heart suddenly crept into her throat, hands tightening into nervous fists as she watched the ever-unflappable Oikawa land a flawless double pirouette, vying for the role of the playful Spring Fairy.

_I’m so much more inexperienced._

When her turn came to dance, the short skein of music flew through her fingertips and before she knew it, Kageyama’s solo was over. And she wasn’t satisfied.

Neither was Watanabe-sensei, judging by the narrowed look in her ink-pool eyes, but she said nothing, merely scribbling something down as Kageyama curtsied, anxiety thick in her veins and tasting like iron in her dry mouth.

“We’ll post the results on Monday. Class dismissed.” Watanabe-sensei said after Kunimi finished her solo, the quiet girl smoothing her palms over her hips as she walked over to Oikawa and her friends where they stood beside the door, a look of indifference in her dull brown eyes. Applause waterfalled through the air to signify the end of class, each student dropping one last hurried curtsy to Watanabe-sensei before flittering out the door in a cloud of noisy, pointless chatter.

* * *

 

Normally, her tactic was to get in and out of the locker rooms as quickly as possible, because they were always freezing cold and the white-tiled floor was too slippery underneath satin shoes. Most of the other girls lingered though, perched on counters and gossiping back and forth while they undid their hair.

Kageyama sighed as she gazed at the rusted, once-pink locker with distaste.

_Today had to be the day that the door decided to jam, huh._

She banged on it a few times, the loud rattle quieting the cacophony as the voices diluted into whispers. Kageyama’s gaze flickered around the room, careful to avoid the stares from her classmates. Before she could formulate any sort of plan, Hanamaki and Matsukawa appeared on either side of her.

“You look like you’re in quite the bind!”

Kageyama, conflicted, shook her head. _Never let them see your weakness._

“I’m alright. . .”

Hanamaki laughed raucously, peering over her shoulder to get a better look at the locker.

“You don’t look alright!”

Matsukawa agreed, slinging an arm over her other side.

“Look, we can help you out. These doors are a bitch to open, we know.”

The smell of vanilla perfume was suffocating as Kageyama shook her head again, wisps from her bun fluttering around her face. She could feel her heartbeat quicken even more, face hot and mouth dry as the seconds ticked by.

“Leave it. You can go.”

Kageyama hadn’t meant to sound so gruff, or so dismissive, or for her normally quiet voice to echo quite so loudly through the now-silent locker room.

Footsteps rung through the air, belonging to a certain slender dancer.

Oikawa.

With an eyebrow arched, she gave Kageyama a once-over.

“You’re that quiet one who just got moved up, aren’t you? The one who Watanabe-sensei seems to adore?”

Kageyama only nodded, eyes wide. Oikawa’s tendency to tear people apart for no reason was no secret to anyone at Kitagawa Daiichi. “Seems to me like you’ve got quite the attitude, hm? Mattsun and Makki were just trying to help you out. No need to be so rude.” She continued, the locker room so quiet now that you could hear a pin drop. Oikawa laughed, eyes flashing dangerously as she moved to lean on Kageyama’s locker. “What’s your name, my dear rookie?”

“Kageyama Tobio.”

Her smile widened as she rocked back onto her heels, eyeing Kageyama before leaning in closely. Kageyama could see the small freckles that spanned her the bridge of her nose and the flecks of gold in her eyes.

“Well, Tobio-chan. Little girls who can’t handle simple auditions don’t get to order people around.”

With that, Oikawa rammed an elbow into her locker, the door swinging open. “Have a wonderful evening, my dear!”

As quickly as she had ripped into her, Oikawa was gone, woven back into the flurry of gossip that was the rest of the locker room once again. Kageyama collected her things as quickly as possible, not bothering to untie her pointe shoes, instead choosing to jam them into winter boots. She left, a shadow of a person, wanting nothing more than to go home and hide from the rest of the world.

But as luck would have it, the next day Kageyama found herself face to face with Oikawa’s dark eyes and perfectly arched eyebrows once again.

_“Ah, Oikawa-chan, please teach Kageyama here to do proper fouettés, yes?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the title is a song - "let me in" by flor as well as the lyrics in the beginning  
> lame, ya, but i really like using music in my fics cause i'm trash :-)


	2. rainbow veins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ao3 user Cutie_chan asked me 55 days ago to continue this uhhh so here it is!! it's weird!! i think i forgot how to write!!

_ 'cause your heart has a lack of colour and we should've known _

_ that we'd grow up sooner or later - ‘cause we wasted all our free time alone _

* * *

 

“Not bad, Tobio-chan, not bad at all.”

 

Panting, Kageyama glanced at the speaker with blue eyes wide. Oikawa smiled slyly at her, clad in a pale pink tutu, the millions of rhinestones that were scattered across it reflecting the stage lights that seeped into the dusky wings.

 

“I mean, your fouettes were still quite  _ interesting.”  _ She handed Kageyama a water bottle and wiped away a faux tear. The younger dancer took it, a bewildered look still present on her round face. “And even after my efforts so many years ago. . .” Oikawa trailed off with a misty look in her eyes. Kageyama promptly scoffed into her drink.

 

“Stop acting like you’re old just because you’re graduating this spring!”

 

Oikawa laughed, following Kageyama out of the wings to the dressing rooms backstage to help her change for the next scene - out of Clara’s party dress and into her nightgown. To be quite honest, they should have been moving much faster. But there was something about it being the third-years’ last performance that caused everyone to move just a little slower, knowing it was the last  _ Nutcracker _ before they moved on to college and for some, the life of a professional dancer. 

 

“Your bow is crooked, dear.” Kageyama looked up at Oikawa from where she knelt, checking the ribbons on her pointe shoes, about to head onstage. Nimble fingers untied and redid the white satin ribbon that threaded through Kageyama’s stiffly-curled locks. “Your hair is so slippery, I’m amazed it held the curl at all.” Oikawa said in a low, laughing voice. 

 

With one last tug and a squeeze of the hand, the newly dressed “Clara” entered the darkened stage, a look of childlike wonder dancing in her blue eyes as the scene unfolded - the Mouse King, the Nutcracker turning into a human, and oh, how exciting it all was! Kageyama’s lungs felt like they were about to burst from all the running back and forth that she had to do, her toes rubbed raw and all her muscles stretched to the limit, but now, in the colourful Land of Sweets she could rest, a smile painted on as she watched the rest of the corps perform. 

 

That smile flaked and curved into a real one as she watched Kunimi and Kindaichi leap their way through the Chinese dance, powerful Hajime with the lead in the wildly athletic Spanish dance, Makki as a red and green striped candy cane, complete with acrobatic hula-hoop tricks. Shocking everyone when she first got the role, Matsukawa as the Arabian dancer.  _ “Who knew our Mattsun was so flexible?”  _ Makki had laughed out loud when she saw the listings in the hallway that morning. 

 

The rest of the performances practically flew by in a blur of candy colours, and as the Waltz of the Flowers ended, Oikawa swallowed thickly, rising up onto to relevé as she prepared to perform _The_ _Nutcracker_ for the last time at Kitagawa Daiichi - dancing one of the most special roles, the Sugar Plum Fairy. Although at this point, the bell-filled music made her want to throw up. But as she ran out onto the stage to take the outstretched hand of the Cavalier, the performance picked her up and swept her away. Just like Kageyama, she was whisked off on a journey of her own, smiling from her heart into the back rows of the theatre. A random audience member would tell her later that she was “shining up there.”

 

It wasn’t until they were all backstage, remnants of glittery makeup under eyes and tracing cheekbones, in various states of undress, that Oikawa really came back to the real world, and judging by a quick glance around the room, many of her friends were experiencing the same thing.

 

The daze that lasts after a show ends, when the music still clings to your clothes and the smell of hairspray is a phantom pain, when pictures and video recordings of it all are sent out and suddenly everything hits twice as hard. Coupled with the bittersweet taste of graduation creeping closer each month, Oikawa and the rest of her classmates weren’t exactly feeling their best. They still had spring performances and college entrance exams to worry about, auditions for apprenticeships and summer intensives at prestigious theatres, but  _ Nutcracker _ still lingered in the back of her mind. It just felt too final. As though her life was rushing by, and Kageyama’s was just beginning. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a lot more oikawa-centric than i had thought it would be? but i guess it just worked out that way. and yes it's a weird ending but it feels natural to me. oikawa's character grows a lot more within my main fic, and this was intended to be more of a training days omake type thing. so yes, "stone-faced" is over, and thank you all for reading! this chapter is a lot more rushed so i hope you guys like it lmao
> 
> the lyrics at the beginning are from "rainbow veins" by owl city because it makes me happy lmao. i feel like it might fit better at the beginning of the first chapter but oh well. thanks again!

**Author's Note:**

> as always i <3 reviews and if u have any questions just lmk!! i'll try to continue this at a later date. much love!!


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